


Comfort Food

by Tassos



Series: Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow [6]
Category: Farscape, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Promptfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-23
Updated: 2007-03-23
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:38:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassos/pseuds/Tassos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A <i>Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow</i> ficlet. Early Part 3. Food is the first comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort Food

**Author's Note:**

> For lillian13

New supplies apparently meant Christmas. John hadn’t know what was going on until Ronon came a dragged him to lunch half an hour early. The mess was crowded with jittery happy people, opening packages and reading mail. John took a stutter step back only to have Ronon catch his wrist and tug him forward. The other man’s eyes were kind and his smile understanding.

“Come on,” he said. “The food’s the best part.” Ronon sidestepped the line and dragged John right up to the front. Most of the scientists and soldiers were too busy talking to notice until they reached the trays and Ronon reached past the young Marine at the front and picked up two trays.

“Hey –” the protest died on the soldier’s lips as soon as he saw who it was. “Go right ahead, sir,” he added quickly at Ronon’s raised eyebrow.

John stared at Ronon a microt before accepting the tray. “Didn’t take you for a bully,” he said mildly.

“They get mail from home, I get food first,” Ronon replied.

And he was right. The food almost made up for being stranded. Fresh, recognizable fruit was first on the menu. Sliced bananas and avocado. Oranges and tomatoes. _Strawberries._

John delicately plucked one from the top of the pile and closed his lips around it. “Oh, God,” he moaned around the burst of sweet and seeds, like tasting summer.

The entrees were the same mix of meat and potatoes fare with the added twist of fresh salad. John’s brain was still stuck with the strawberries and didn’t move until he saw there was dessert.

Ice cream. Vanilla neatly scooped into bowls sitting on ice. John hadn’t even remembered he missed ice cream. A hotplate of chocolate sauce and another bushel of bananas were there too. Waiting.

The offering was like a still life painting as a dozen happy memories of childhood summers, college beer floats, family sitting on the porch stuttered through his heart. John had never had ice cream when he was angry.

“Hey, you okay?” Ronon nudged his shoulder.

“Yah,” John’s voice caught, surprising him back into reality.

_iOh, I know this. “I scream! You scream! We all scream for ice cream!”_

John’s hand shook as he picked up a bowl and loaded it with bananas and strawberries and chocolate sauce. He’d never eaten ice cream alone either. His comfort food for breakups had always been beer. Ice cream had always been a social thing. Easy, happy –birthdays and late night snacks or a Saturday afternoon date.

“I love this stuff,” said Ronon with a grin as he slathered chocolate sauce everywhere including the mixed vegetables. “Never had anything like till I came here.

Trays loaded, they found a table. Ronon immediately grabbed his ice cream first and started digging in. “I love the first day,” he said with his mouth full. “They’ll start rationing the chocolate tomorrow. It never lasts though. The women always end up stealing it.” He rolled his eyes and John was surprised enough to laugh.

He picked up his ice cream, too, and carved out a big spoonful with chocolate and bananas and strawberries. As it melted into bliss on his tongue, something inside loosened, and John didn’t feel quite as alone.


End file.
